


they say love is a virtue

by wordstruck



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alpha Ushijima Wakatoshi, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - College/University, Breeding Kink, Jealousy, Knotting, M/M, Miscommunication, Omega Oikawa Tooru, Omega Shirabu Kenjirou, Omegaverse, PIV Sex, Possessive Behavior, Power Bottom, Scenting, Seijoh 4 Side Characters, afab language
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-16
Updated: 2021-02-16
Packaged: 2021-03-18 11:21:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,322
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29488962
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wordstruck/pseuds/wordstruck
Summary: The thing is, he can’t exactly sayI want you to stop hanging out with your underclassman,because it’s not just petty beyond belief, but would expose Oikawa’s insecurity and he can’t have that. And he can’t tell Shirabu to stop hanging around Ushijima either, because then he’d have to admit to Shirabu that he’s insecure and he can’t have that either. Which means Oikawa simply has to put up with it, and suck Ushijima’s dick extra well back at their apartment.
Relationships: Oikawa Tooru/Ushijima Wakatoshi
Comments: 12
Kudos: 284





	they say love is a virtue

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Pridwen](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pridwen/gifts).



> yet another ushioi request by [@ehan](https://twitter.com/ehangwenn), this time about possessive omega oikawa who's jealous of shirabu!! the prompt was about shirabu ending up at the same university, and making oikawa jealous because he's always around oikawa. which was the perfect excuse for me to make oikawa act like a little brat HAHAHA.
> 
> please **mind the tags!!** there are a few instances of more neutral afab terms ("slit") and a brief reference to lactation later on in the fic. if that makes you uncomfortable, please feel free to click out. otherwise, the language i use is fairly neutral!
> 
> all my ushioi is omegaverse but i make no apologies for that.

* * *

The first time Oikawa walks into the university’s second gym and saw Ushijima practising, he almost walks back out.

 _Almost._ He does have his pride, and it’s not going to keep him from playing on the same team as Ushijima. He won’t throw a tantrum but it’s a near thing. His university career is supposed to be about starting afresh and making a new name for himself outside the high school volleyball sphere. Establishing himself as a top-tier setter despite his lack of trophies. Honing his skills.

Ushijima Wakatoshi, apparently, has other plans.

(Never mind that Ushijima was _also_ scouted by the same school, and had simply chosen it for the strength of its sporting program. He hadn’t even known Oikawa would be attending until he heard an indignant squawk by the gym doors. To Oikawa, none of this matters.)

A slighted omega is no quiet thing, and Oikawa is louder than most. He snaps and bares teeth for the smallest of slights, the tiniest of Ushijima’s faults. He scents aggressively, citrus and spice gone sharp. He calls poor Iwaizumi over and whines to his best friend that Ushijima is obviously obsessed him, the big stupid alpha brute. 

“Why is he even _here,_ ” Oikawa gripes, for possibly the ninth time that week.

“Because your school has one of the highest-rated collegiate volleyball programs,” Iwaizumi answers, with a patience developed only from being Oikawa Tooru’s friend for thirteen years.

“Yes but why is he _here._ ”

“One day you will finally admit you’re attracted to him,” Iwaizumi tells him. Oikawa hangs up.

He is _not_ attracted to Ushijima, thank you very much. Sure, Ushijima is good-looking and strong, and sure, he’s got an undeniable _presence_ as an alpha and an ace. And sure, Oikawa’s gaze may linger a little too long and inappropriately on his shoulders and back even when he’s not in pre-heat. But that is simply _objective appreciation_. It is not an indicator that Oikawa has lost his mind and become attracted to the man who has tormented his volleyball career since junior high.

(Or whatever he needs to tell himself.)

The problem is, Oikawa now realizes Ushijima isn’t cruel or uncouth. On the contrary, he’s infuriatingly and incessantly _earnest._ It’s like his recent experiences have actually _humbled_ him, giving him this awkward and fumbling gravity that he now turns onto Oikawa. And worse, Oikawa is actually warming up to him.

(“So are you saying you _like_ that big stupid alpha br—”

“Iwa-chan you shut your mouth.”)

He can’t constantly pick on Ushijima whiffing his spikes when Ushijima will ask, in all seriousness, what Oikawa thinks he should adjust to better perform on offense. He can’t make fun of how Ushijima seems so much more _ordinary_ at this level when Ushijima stays late to practice and requests for Oikawa’s pointers. And he can’t keep accusing Ushijima of being a stupid alpha brute drawn to Oikawa’s pheromones when he’s…

Well, he’s so sincere that it has Oikawa flustered.

Volunteering to stay for Oikawa’s extra training. Offering to carry Oikawa’s things or buy him dinner. Bringing little _gifts,_ like milk bread or peach tea, just because he remembers Oikawa likes them. Holding out his jacket when Oikawa accidentally-on-purpose forgets his. Even letting Oikawa boss and drag him around, with just a faint, pained grimace to show his reluctance.

If Oikawa didn’t know better, he’d say Ushijima was _wooing_ him.

Except apparently Oikawa does _not_ know better, and Ushijima is, in fact, wooing him. A fact made terribly obvious the first time Ushijima tentatively reaches for his hand, wearing an expression Oikawa didn’t even know he was capable of making.

It’s not a great moment. Ushijima’s hand feels all sweaty. Oikawa wasn’t expecting it so the first touch nearly makes him jump out of his skin. They’re both collapsed on the sidelines after receiving drills.

But Ushijima sits there, fingers threaded lightly through Oikawa’s, cheeks flushed and eyes fixed on the floor.

Oikawa doesn’t think he’s ever felt so warm and vulnerable as in this moment.

He’s not very nice about Ushijima’s feelings. He bullies Ushijima more than is necessary or acceptable. He preens and teases and gets Ushijima to spoil him, and he’s just as insufferable and bratty as he’s ever been. Whatever newfound maturity he has found at university does not apply to his relationship with his alpha.

But _his_ alpha Ushijima is, for better or worse or in-between.

“You’re mine,” Oikawa mutters, sulky, head buried in Ushijima’s chest. The alpha looks at that indignant tuft of hair, exasperated and fond and helplessly in love.

“I always was, Tooru.” 

They get half a year of (relative) peace and cohabitation and really great sex, and then Shirabu Kenjirou shows up.

Oikawa does not like Shirabu. This has nothing to do with the fact that Shirabu showed him up _three times_ to the Best Setter award during the prefectural qualifiers, as that is beside the point. (And _anyway,_ Shirabu’s stats were stupidly inflated because he tossed to Ushijima and Ushijima had a frankly absurd spike conversion rate. Oikawa would know. He calculated it.) 

No, Oikawa simply dislikes Shirabu because he’s a pretentious snot-nosed brat who thought he was all that, just because he was the starting setter of the Shiratorizawa boy’s volleyball team. Also his haircut is ugly.

Of course, it might also be because Shirabu is an omega. And that he’s an omega with a very blatant crush on _Oikawa’s_ mate. 

(Oikawa is aware that he and Ushijima are technically not mated yet, since he has no bondmark. Yet. That, too, is beside the point.)

It’s so glaringly obvious and has been since high school. Oikawa has no idea why Ushijima doesn’t see it. It’s there in the way Shirabu looks at Ushijima, talks to him, remembers little details that Oikawa is still learning. It’s there in his _scent,_ however faint, lavender and bergamot turning just a little sweet. It’s there in the faint color that stings his cheeks when Ushijima says _Shirabu._

Ushijima’s only reaction is to comment that Oikawa seems to be scenting him more assertively. And yes, Oikawa is, but how is that the _only_ thing Ushijima has noticed?

(“Why not just bring it up with him?” Iwaizumi asks over their required weekly call.

Oikawa frowns. “No?”)

The thing is, he can’t exactly say _I want you to stop hanging out with your underclassman,_ because it’s not just petty beyond belief, but would expose Oikawa’s insecurity and he can’t have that. And he can’t tell Shirabu to stop hanging around Ushijima either, because then he’d have to admit to Shirabu that he’s insecure and he can’t have that either. Which means Oikawa simply has to put up with it, and suck Ushijima’s dick extra well back at their apartment.

(Oikawa’s very good at that. He always leaves Ushijima dazed and breathing hard, staring down at Oikawa in awe as the omega licks any spilled cum off his lips and—)

“—Oikawa-san.”

He blinks. Shirabu looks at him expectantly.

“Sorry, what?”

That earns him a frown. “I was asking if I could borrow your notes for my western literature class. Ushijima-san said you passed the exams quite easily.”

 _Yes,_ Oikawa did, but he doesn’t want to hear that from _Shirabu._

“Oikawa-san?”

The omega smiles his best, most winning, and most vindictive smile. “Of course. I don’t need those notes this semester anyway.”

“I appreciate it, Oikawa-san.”

See, the most irritating part is: it’s not actually fair of Oikawa to hate Shirabu. He’s a good kid, prissy attitude aside. Responsible and hard-working, with a single-minded determination that might even remind Oikawa of himself, if he were feeling charitable. He’s smart, if he’s taking up pre-med at their university. And he’d clearly earned his place on Shiratorizawa’s team, too. Ushijima respects him and his skills, and trusted him on the court in high school. 

Moreover, he doesn’t encroach on Oikawa’s relationship with Ushijima. He wears scent patches around them — or at least, when Oikawa’s there. He keeps a respectable distance between himself and Ushijima (when Oikawa’s there). He’s not touchy and never has been, from what Oikawa remembers when he’s there.

But when Oikawa _isn’t_ there—

(No. Don’t think about it.)

Also, Shirabu might not be playing volleyball anymore, and he might be mostly preoccupied with his med student schedule, but Oikawa still feels like Shirabu’s around Ushijima _all the goddamn time._ He attends their practice matches sometimes. Joins Ushijima’s solo practice when he’s available, acting as his setter in Oikawa’s place. Watches their home games when he has the time. Even offers some opinions, which Oikawa refuses to consider because they have a coach and they have _Oikawa Tooru,_ thank you very much.

(And when Shirabu sends Ushijima a toss, just so, and Ushijima smiles, and their scents mix just a bit — Oikawa hates it.)

It’s mean and spiteful, Oikawa knows. He’s being a brat and he doesn’t need Iwaizumi to tell him. But he can’t help it, because Shirabu’s presence is a needle to bone, a stark and unwelcome reminder of one of Oikawa’s biggest insecurities.

He’s not a model omega. He’s headstrong and spoiled and wilful to a fault. He’s pretty, true, but that feels superficial. He fixates on volleyball and training and his singular ex-girlfriend is right — he’ll always care more about this sport than anything else. He has _ambitions._ And he knows Ushijima knows this, and that Ushijima has his own (many) flaws and ambitions. But if Ushijima were to find an omega more suited to him—

(If Ushijima decided Shirabu was a better fit, Oikawa rather thinks it would break his heart.)

* * *

He’d never admit it out loud, of course, but Shirabu knows he has a lingering crush on Ushijima. It’s a persistent feeling, even now that they’re separated by schedules and career choices. When someone was your defining reason to pursue volleyball, it’s difficult to simply move on, even when it’s clear your affections will never be returned.

Make no mistake: Shirabu knows nothing will ever come of his schoolboy admiration. Ushijima has been helplessly, hopelessly in love with Oikawa Tooru since junior high, and that’s never going to change. But it’s fine; Shirabu feels safe hanging around Ushijima and maybe flirting a little, since the alpha is always so oblivious. It means nothing in the long run. His crush will fade. He’ll find someone else. Just — for now, he’ll take what little of Ushijima’s attention he can steal, and let go of the rest.

He’s seen the way Ushijima looks at Oikawa. There’s no competing with that.

* * *

The equally irritating thing for Oikawa is that Ushijima is so _accommodating._ He asks Shirabu for company while studying. He meets Shirabu for coffee. He _brings_ Shirabu coffee, and somehow he remembers the correct coffee order, which pisses Oikawa off to no end.

“I also have your caramel latte,” Ushijima says, holding out the cup. “And I bought the buttermilk biscuits. They were unfortunately out of milk bread.”

Oikawa takes his pastries with a huff, chin raised disdainfully. Yes it’s a sweet gesture but that is _beside the point._ Ushijima is _his_ alpha, so why is he bringing coffee for _some other omega?_

(Still, he makes a point to lay it on thick when he thanks Ushijima for the drink. A small voice in his mind, that sounds suspiciously like Iwaizumi, says _marking your territory._ Oikawa mentally, pointedly tells the Iwa-chan voice to shut up.) 

Oikawa reacts in a predictable way: badly, and with little grace. He clings, no other word for it. Works his routine so that he can meet Ushijima after classes or for meals. Scents Ushijima all the time, inadvertently driving him to distraction.

Once, just once, he tries letting another alpha flirt with him. That _does_ irk Ushijima, and it leads to some frankly fantastic sex, but it doesn’t make Ushijima pay any more attention to Oikawa and any less to Shirabu.

“Maybe,” Hanamaki muses over an emergency group call that Oikawa had requested (demanded) one Friday night, “you need to spice things up.”

“Oho,” Matsukawa pipes up, stroking his chin.

“Wear his clothes, perhaps?”

“With lingerie underneath.”

“Or just be naked in bed with your—”

“I can and _will_ terminate this call,” Iwaizumi threatens. Even through his shitty webcam, they can all recognize the shade of red that signals _exasperation_.

“Or maybe Oikawa can cook?”

“We can preemptively call the fire department—”

“Do any of you plan on being _helpful,_ ” Oikawa hisses at his laptop. Ushijima isn’t even home — Oikawa timed that on purpose — but he still feels like he needs to whisper. “I’m trying to stop that shameless omega hussy from stealing _my_ alpha.”

“Hussy,” Iwaizumi deadpans, and Matsukawa and Hanamaki crack up.

“I hate all of you,” Oikawa mutters, going pink with indignation.

“Look, Shittykawa — will the two of you _shut up_ — just, could you just _talk to him about it._ Like a rational person. A conversation between two mature adults.”

(Oikawa really hates how sensible Iwaizumi is. It makes him look bad.)

Matsukawa and Hanamaki have quieted, waiting and watching. Oikawa hugs his pillow tighter and presses his face into the fabric.

“I don’t know,” he admits, sullen and petulant. “I mean, it’s not exactly something I can just — _bring up,_ all casual. _Hey Waka-chan, could you stop seeing your cute omega underclassman? I think he’s trying to seduce you and it’s pissing me off._ That’ll go over so well.”

Iwaizumi rubs his temples. Oikawa’s rather proud that he can piss his best friend off even through a video call.

“I _meant,_ ” the other alpha says, “just — bring up that it’s making you feel uncomfortable, and maybe he can help you work through why, and reassure you. He’s _your_ alpha, isn’t he?”

Oikawa scrunches his nose. Matsukawa huffs a laugh.

“I’m with Iwaizumi on this.” He shrugs. “Communication is important in healthy relationships.”

“And what would _you_ know—”

“The _point,_ ” Hanamaki interjects, “is that you should talk to him. Honestly. Preferably without accusing Shirabu of seduction.”

Oikawa makes a face. He has done nothing to deserve such little faith from his friends. His answering hum is noncommittal at best, but he’s considering it, at least. Sort of.

(This is a lie, but his friends don’t need to know that.)

What Oikawa knows — because contrary to popular belief, he does have a sense of self-awareness — is that he sucks at confrontation. He gets too emotional and starts crying and then his skin turns all splotchy. He’ll let his feelings get the best of him and then say something stupid and hurtful. He’s had six fights with Iwaizumi to prove it.

So his solution is not to confront Ushijima, no. He chooses the more elegant approach, which is to push Ushijima down to their bed and climb into his lap.

“Tooru—”

“There are a lot of things I’ll put up with from my alpha,” Oikawa cuts him off, running his fingers through Ushijima’s hair. Wisely, the alpha holds his tongue. “Late practices. Long study sessions. Forgetting to leave me coffee in the morning. Using up all the hot water.”

(This is one of Oikawa’s favorite things about Ushijima: he can tell when his omega is acting seriously, and so he stays quiet. He listens.)

“But,” Oikawa goes on, swiping a thumb over Ushijima’s bottom lip, “I will _not_ stand by and watch another omega flirt with you so blatantly.”

That gets Ushijima to frown. Oikawa presses his finger in harder to block any protests. 

“You are my alpha. My mate. So I’m going to remind you,” he says softly, brushing his mouth over Ushijima’s, feeling the alpha’s breath quicken, watching his pupils dilate, “that you belong to _me._ ”

(The way Ushijima looks at him now — the reverence, the adoration, the _hunger_ — Oikawa wants Ushijima to look at him like this forever.)

He'll never tell Matsukawa and Hanamaki, but he did end up taking some of their advice. Wearing Ushijima’s shirt, because he knows his alpha likes the way that looks. Straddling his lap, planted firmly on Ushijima’s thighs. Oikawa takes Ushijima’s hands and slides them higher up his thighs, creeping under the hem. He sees the moment Ushijima’s fingers brush over his hip and—

Vindictive satisfaction sings under his skin at Ushijima’s sharp inhale, grip going from curious to bruising.

He lets Ushijima tug him forward, cupping his bare ass, leaning in to bite a kiss under Oikawa’s jaw—

—and then shoves him to the mattress, smirking.

“I don’t believe I allowed you to touch me,” he says sweetly, sliding himself deliberately over Ushijima’s cock where it’s rapidly hardening in his sweatpants. He savors the groan pulled through gritted teeth, feels Ushijima’s fingers dig into his skin. The scent of fresh-turned earth is everywhere, strong and heady, like the world after rainfall. The way it mixes with Oikawa’s candied citrus scent makes him dizzy.

“Tooru, I—”

Oikawa kisses him then, hard and deep. He pulls away, leaving Ushijima desperate to follow. Lifts Ushijima’s hands under his shirt and presses them to his chest. His alpha takes the hint, groping, thumbs flicking over pert nipples. Oikawa wants to be heavy with milk one day, soft and swollen, Ushijima’s mouth on him.

For now, he leans back, braces his hands on Ushijima’s thighs, and grinds. He drags his bare crotch over Ushijima’s cock, again and again, riding the length of it with his slit. He’s already wet enough to turn the fabric of the alpha’s sweatpants sticky. Oikawa grins, watching as Ushijima’s gaze follows his fingers dipping down, skimming his navel before slipping between his legs to feel the wetness there. When the omega withdraws slick-coated fingers, Ushijima groans.

“ _Tooru._ ”

Oikawa answers by smearing his fingers over Ushijima’s mouth. His grin widens when Ushijima parts his lips obediently, eagerly, sucking three fingers into his mouth and laving his tongue over them. His expression turns heated as he licks the slick off Oikawa’s skin, and Oikawa feels a throb between his legs. He’s already leaking all over Ushijima’s lap.

“Good alpha,” he murmurs, dragging his fingers out of Ushijima’s mouth, making a mess of his chin. “Behave for me, would you?”

— — — — — — — — — —

Ushijima has never shied away from letting Oikawa take the lead in bed, often even likes it. But it’s never been like this — provocative; _taunting_ , even. He won’t let Ushijima touch him beyond splaying wide, calloused palms on his thighs. Ushijima feels like he could cum just from Oikawa grinding over his clothed cock, already close to the edge just from seeing his omega like this. When Oikawa finally tugs down the waistband of Ushijima’s sweatpants to free his cock — to _touch_ it — the alpha spurts a little, twitching in a teasing grip.

Oikawa just grins, rubbing the head of Ushijima’s cock against his entrance. It takes all of Ushijima’s self-restraint not to bury himself in tight, wet heat and fuck Oikawa so hard he feels it for a week. He won’t, though, he’s a _good_ alpha and he’s behaving, he’ll be good if Oikawa just—

Less restrained when Oikawa finally gets his cock in. Ushijima watches as the omega’s lips part, eyes fluttering shut as he sinks down, inch by inch until his ass is flush to Ushijima’s lap. Tempting, _so_ tempting to roll them over, pin Oikawa down and fuck him but he won’t.

Can’t, won’t, doesn’t. Clutches the sheets instead, twists his fingers into fabric and waits as Oikawa smiles and bounces shallowly on his cock. He works up a pace, flush creeping over his skin and sweat matting brown hair to his forehead. So gorgeous when he rides Ushijima like this, beautiful omega, let him take his pleasure from his alpha, Ushijima will give him—

Then Oikawa stops moving, sitting himself down on Ushijima’s cock just as the tension begins to curl in his groin. Ushijima groans, noise catching in his throat. Oikawa, pretty brat that he is, laughs breathlessly.

“Did you want something?” he asks, lifting up then sliding back down deliberately slow. Ushijima’s hands twitch as he shakes his head. “Good,” the omega purrs, starting the movement of his hips again, working Ushijima up. Then he stops again, and this time Ushijima half-snarls because Oikawa is _teasing,_ and Ushijima _needs_ more.

“More?” Oikawa murmurs, leaning in close, pressing his hands to Ushijima’s chest. When Ushijima nods, he just rolls his hips in an excruciating, grinding circle. “Then tell me. Whose are you.”

“Tooru—”

“Say it.” Clenches, hard, rocking on Ushijima’s cock in a way he has to know isn’t enough, keeping Ushijima on the edge without tipping over.

“Tooru, _please_ —”

“Come on, _alpha._ ”

“Yours,” Ushijima gasps, hips twitching under Oikawa. It’s a struggle to hold back, to not simply turn Oikawa over and _take_ , and Ushijima knows Oikawa’s _enjoying_ it. “Yours — your alpha, I’m yours — Tooru, _please_ — let me—”

“No.” Oikawa brushes his lips over Ushijima’s cheek, his jaw; rolls his hips slowly, an exquisite form of torture. His fingers are twisted in Ushijima’s hair, holding tight, tilting his head back so he’s gazing up at his omega in worship. As if Ushijima would offer any less.

“No,” Oikawa goes on, “I want you watching me. Looking _only_ at me.”

(As if Ushijima would look anywhere else.)

Oikawa holds Ushijima’s eyes as he starts moving his hips in earnest, fucking himself on Ushijima’s cock. His breath sounds punched out of him, soft noises and gasps, and _finally_ he lets Ushijima touch him. Fingers in a bruising grip on Oikawa’s hips as he urges the omega on, thrusting up to meet him. Oikawa tugs at Ushijima’s hair, crashing their mouths together in an open-mouthed kiss, panting hot against his teeth as he rides his alpha’s cock.

“Like that, alpha?” he rasps, half-laughing. “Wanna knot me, is that it?”

“ _Tooru._ ”

“Want you to.” _Fuck,_ Ushijima feels brutally turned on hearing Oikawa talk like this. Feeling the way Oikawa yanks him forward, pushing his chest to Ushijima’s mouth, and the alpha parts his lips obediently, greedily. Shudders as nails leave scratches all over his shoulders and back. “Fuck me so good — so good, alpha — _hah_ — all for me. You’re _mine,_ and I’m all you’re — _hng_ — ever going to — to want, _fuck—_ ”

“Yours,” Ushijima says, swears, whatever Oikawa wants. He can feel his knot starting to form, catching lightly as Oikawa clenches around him. Ushijima bites at sun-kissed skin, littering Oikawa with marks (but not the one he wants to leave, high up his throat, one day, someday, _please_ —), pulling back every so often for a messy kiss.

“Want your knot,” Oikawa gasps into the scant space between them. Ushijima’s already nodding helplessly when he feels Oikawa fumble for his hands, guiding them to the firm plane of his abdomen. “Want you to knot me, alpha, want — _ah_ — want you to knock me up — _hah_ — pups, alpha, want — fuck, _fuck_ —”

Ushijima cums like this, with Oikawa fucking himself onto his alpha’s knot, whining high in his throat. His teeth sink into Oikawa’s shoulder in a poor substitute for a bondmark. Oikawa follows soon after, mouth brushing clumsily over Ushijima’s as he shudders and sobs.

It’s a long while of Ushijima cradling Oikawa quietly in his lap, stroking fingers idly up and down the meridian of his spine, before he finally brings it up. Isn’t sure if he should, doesn’t want to risk Oikawa’s temper, but there’s something bothering his omega and it’s his duty to fix that — not just because he’s the alpha, but because it matters to him. 

(All Ushijima has wanted is for Oikawa to be happy.)

“Tooru,” he says softly, carefully, “if — is there something you take issue with, that you feel I might—” He pauses, turning over his words. Oikawa shifts in his lap, burying his face in Ushijima’s throat and making the alpha snort in fond exasperation. “You know I’m committed to you. I always will be.”

There is a long, long pause in which Oikawa continues to hide and Ushijima waits, patient as he’s always been with the brat in his lap. Then Oikawa pulls back, cheeks stung pink and gaze averted.

“I just—” His expression twists, a combination of guilt and defensiveness. Ushijima swipes his thumb under one eye, cups his jaw gently. With a sigh, Oikawa leans into his touch. “I don’t — like, how Shirabu acts around you. Has been acting around you. It makes me — uncomfortable.”

“Possessive.” Ushijima bites down on a laugh when Oikawa scowls. “Is there a problem with Shirabu? He’s just—”

“—your friend, I know, but.” Oikawa wrinkles his nose. “It bothers me. That he flirts with you. That he takes up so much of your attention. And I know I’m being a brat, and I’m trying to do better, but — just—”

Ushijima considers this for a long moment. He’s aware Shirabu has some sort of attachment to him, but never thought it could extend further than admiration for his high school ace. He knows Oikawa will never have anything to worry about, because Ushijima has never looked at anyone else, but if it bothers Oikawa that much…

“I apologize if I made you feel neglected,” he says, stroking his thumb back and forth over Oikawa’s cheek. “And I will speak with Shirabu if you wish. But Tooru, you _know_ I’m yours. I made a commitment to you. I intend to see it through.”

(Someday. One day. Gods willing, he’ll have Oikawa forever.)

Oikawa looks at him loftily despite the sniffling. But he nods, and Ushijima knows that’s as much a concession as he’ll earn for now.

“You’re _mine,_ ” Oikawa declares, still seated naked on Ushijima’s lap as if it were a throne, like the conqueror he is on the court. Ushijima’s little tyrant, and oh, how he adores this man — all of him, down to his bones.

“I always was, Tooru.” Kisses him — brow, temple, cheek, mouth, pulse. Where the bondmark Ushijima will place one day goes. “I always will be.” 

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading!! come find me on twitter yelling about haikyuu, bnha, and genshin impact XD i'm [@redluxite](https://twitter.com/redluxite) and my pinned tweet links ways you can support my writing ^__^


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